


White Noise

by puppyeolie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, ChanHun, Coming Out, Coming of Age, High School, M/M, Oh Sehun-centric, Pining, Self-Discovery, This is weird, baekhyun is... there?, but park chanyeol does not know of sehun's existence, chanbaek-minor, chanyeol through sehun's eyes, idk how to describe it, is it a happy ending even idk hopeful or smth, jongin is an angel, sechan - Freeform, sehun comes to terms with his sexuality, taemin is a gay legend, teen sehun dealing with teen problems, the problem is park chanyeol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:43:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppyeolie/pseuds/puppyeolie
Summary: Sehun finally realizes he has a crush. On a boy. And that it has taken him way too long to figure it out.He decides not to think about it. It’ll pass.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 18
Kudos: 33





	White Noise

The first time Sehun sees Park Chanyeol, he’s meant to shout a little, maybe make a snarky remark or two, but he doesn’t.

Sehun stands by the back door of the otherwise empty music room and sees a tall boy with awkward limbs bent over his guitar, strumming a calm melody so very different from the incessant noisy drumming Sehun had left the dance practice room to scream at.

The drum set sits empty on another corner of the room, and Sehun wonders where the noise that drowned out the piano piece Jongin and he had been choreographing a dance to came from. 

Although dumbfounded, Sehun keeps watch from his still hidden spot with his typical poker face, determined to figure out who had interrupted them.

Minutes pass, the boy with the guitar is still the sole occupant of the room. Maybe a hint of curiosity flickers over Sehun’s stoic features.

The tall boy puts down his guitar and moves to the grand piano.

He plays. It’s the same melody, Sehun figures when he concludes the piece with a flourish of long fingers and a comical bow at an absent audience. Sehun almost laughs. He plays it all over again, with a wide smile this time, seemingly amused at his own antics.

More minutes pass, Sehun casually makes note of the boy’s big eyes and funny elfish ears, how his large hands seem to glide across the piano keys with flair and ease, a familiarity only years of practice could produce.

Sehun is quite lost in the music when the boy abruptly ends it, and rushes to the drums, as if having had a revelation. Sehun’s eyes widen as he picks up the forgotten drumsticks lolling about the floor, and passionately starts on the drums. Sehun recognizes the noise that brought him here in the first place, but it’s smoother, less harsh, more even.

Again, it is the very same melody the lanky boy had been playing on the both the guitar and the piano. Sehun stands enthralled as he keeps drumming, perfecting his moves until the beats don’t resemble the noise that had ruined Sehun’s dance practice anymore.

Sehun realizes how late it is when the boy starts packing his bag, and the guitar which seems to be his own. The room looks orange, aglow with the light of the setting sun. A minute more, and Sehun will be discovered. He tiptoes to a distance, and then sprints to the dance practice room at the end of the hall, startling Jongin who had evidently been dozing off in Sehun’s absence.

Sehun blackmails Jongin about his little nap when he demands an explanation about his disappearance: Jongin immediately shuts up.

When Sehun asks his classmate Taemin, the self-proclaimed king of school gossip, about the mysterious boy he encountered in the music room the previous day, he is informed it had been Park Chanyeol, “senior hottie and musical genius”, he had stumbled upon.

“Park Chanyeol”, Sehun mouths over and over to himself in Mr. Lee’s boring history class that day.

\----------------------

The next time Sehun sees Park Chanyeol, his back is turned to Sehun, and he has another boy trapped against the wall.

Jongin, and Taemin who had finally decided to show up at practice, were too dissolved in their own conversation to question the lame excuse that Sehun had made before sneaking out. Sehun walked to the music room with light steps, softly humming Park Chanyeol’s name. Sehun did not put a name to the feeling. He did not think much of it, he was just curious, and at this point, that was the truth. Sehun was 16, and Sehun was curious, and Sehun would do as he liked, and that made perfect sense to Sehun.

Sehun reclaimed his place by the back door, perfectly still as he looked in.

Sehun sees Park Chanyeol kissing a boy. He sees the smaller boy’s delicate hands grip Chanyeol’s shoulders so hard his pristine ironed shirt crinkles around the edges of the other’s fingers. In a corner of the music room in the soft golden haze of the winter sun, Sehun sees Park Chanyeol kissing a boy.

Sehun knows he shouldn’t be here, knows this isn’t for his eyes, knows this is strictly a stolen private moment for the two boys so utterly lost in each other, but Sehun has never seen such intimacy up this close, he has never seen two boys kissing before, and his insides are a rush of emotions he cannot dissect. Sehun cannot move.

The smaller boy lets out a breathy moan. Sehun snaps out of his daze. He runs.

Sehun does not go back to the dance practice room. He doesn’t look back. He runs until he’s home and realizes he left his bag and keys at school, so he takes off again. He needs to sit down. He needs to breathe. He needs familiarity.

This time he ends up in a neighbourhood park. He knows these swings and slides that he grew up in, and he finally breathes. He settles down on an empty swing, its metal chins cold and rusty in his tight grip, he lets the eerie silence of a suburban park on an afternoon eat up his thoughts.

It is already dark when Sehun gets home. His parents aren’t back yet. His school bag lies beside their apartment door, and he switches on his phone to innumerable phone calls and texts from Jongin. He sighs, he isn’t in the mood for explanations tonight, or ever, if he has his way.

_I’m alright. Thanks for my bag._

He owes Jongin this much.

Sehun plops down on his bed with a heavy thud as thoughts rush back into his head, the silence of the apartment not enough to keep them out.

Sehun knows boys kiss boys, but he has never given much thought to it. Sehun knows people hate boys who kiss boys, but he has never given much thought to it either.

Now it is all he can think about.

Sehun saw two boys kissing, and he did not hate it.

Sehun saw two people kissing, when he wasn’t meant to see it.

Sehun has every crinkle on Park Chanyeol’s shirt and every direction his sweat matted hair pointed at to committed to his memory.

Sehun wonders who the other boy is, he wonders what he means to Chanyeol.

Heat rushes over Sehun’s body when he thinks of the noise the boy made. It was nothing like the women in the pornos Jongin sometimes showed Sehun, only to get his usual unresponsive face. It was intimate, it sounded almost lovely, and Sehun wondered how it would sound on his own lips as it played on loop in his head.

Sehun feels guilty. Sehun feels like a voyeur. Sehun feels hot.

Sehun does not feel disgusted. Sehun feels scared that he does not feel disgusted.

When he eventually falls into a fitful bout of sleep, he sees himself in the music room, he sees Park Chanyeol on the piano, he sees Chanyeol pull him closer, he sees him lean in.

Sehun wakes up a sweaty mess, with a tightness in his pants he cannot explain.

\----------------------

The third time Sehun sees Park Chanyeol, he has weeks of avoiding the school’s 4th floor behind him, skipping dance practice just so he doesn’t have to pass the music room and possibly electrify and fry every nerve on his body, or pop a raging boner just from the memory of Chanyeol making out with a boy again, something he embarrassingly dealt with on an almost nightly basis, and having to explain it to Kim Jongin, or worse, a smirking Lee Taemin, who seemed to know too much about these things for his age.

Jongin, with a pleasantly smiling Taemin in tow, drags Sehun to dance practice before Sehun can rush out of school as soon as classes for the day are over, like he has perfected over the last three weeks. Jongin, cleverly armed with bubble tea that day, had succeeded in baiting Sehun.

Sehun sighs as they reach the 4th floor, there would be no escape for him.

He dramatically balls his fist and regulates his breathing as they near the music room.

The moment comes and passes. Sehun catches a glimpse of a disheveled Park Chanyeol with tears streaming down his face before they move past.

A dull throb of a decade old fall ghosts Sehun’s body. He’s 6 and crashing down the stairs of his dead grandmother’s house again.

The moment comes and passes. Sehun stretches his limbs, stiff from weeks of inactivity, as a concerned Jongin sits against the wall with Taemin, whispering.

“Have you been okay?”, Jongin finally asks, gently, as if fearing Sehun would flee again, and knowing Sehun, he probably would.

Sehun nods absentmindedly, Chanyeol’s tearstained face still flashing across his mind. He wonders if that other boy had made him cry.

Dance practice goes by in a flash of Jongin’s lame jokes and Taemin’s lame teasing, and Sehun almost falls back into the rhythm of his old life, when he did not look at boys wondering how it would feel to kiss their lips, when he did not stay up at night searching up videos of boys doing things to boys he had been told they shouldn’t, and crying in bed afterwards because he felt so guilty. Almost. Chanyeol’s doe eyes red and puffy with tears come back to him every time he feels too comfortable.

Jongin and Taemin pretend Sehun hadn’t tried disappearing from their lives for three weeks, but Sehun sees them exchange worried glances when they think he isn’t looking. He knows Jongin will let it rest for now, kind, understanding Jongin will let it rest, but he will ask again, he will, Sehun knows in the back of his mind and panic flares in his stomach at the thought. He isn’t ready to give answers right now, he doesn’t even know the answers, doesn’t even know if he ever will.

He fist-bumps Jongin when they pass the school gate and Jongin takes his way home with Taemin, waving Sehun goodbye. He pretends he didn’t try disappearing for three weeks too.

Sehun is alone with his thoughts once more, kicking stray pebbles by the school gate.

Sehun once got lost on the subway when he was eight. He didn’t bawl his eyes out, he didn’t cry for his parents. He looked out at the greys on every passing wall until they reached the last stop. An old lady held his hand to the police station. He recited out his name, his address, and his parents' phone number, like they had made him memorize at home. His mom was in tears when they came for him, hugging him so tight he couldn’t breathe. She hysterically asked him if he was alright, asked every person at the police station if Sehun was alright. Sehun nodded, everyone uttered some reassuring words and went back to their lives, unbothered by the poker-faced kid and his crying mom. Sehun was alright. As long as Sehun didn’t think about it, he was alright. The world could be ending, but if Sehun didn’t think about it, it would be alright.

Sehun thinks too much these days. He thinks about Park Chanyeol and all the instruments he plays and his cute ears and the boy who broke his heart when he doesn’t even know Park Chanyeol. He doesn’t even know Park Chanyeol, and he thinks about his bright eyes and his comical bows and his tears and his-

Sehun’s feet, quite detached from his stormy mind, have kicked something that is not a pebble. The discrepancy breaks his train of thoughts. He registers its softness as he looks down, only to find what looks like a brown leather wallet.

He picks it up without a second thought, opens it up without another.

His heart jumps out of his chest.

Park Chanyeol, the student ID reads.

Sehun’s hands move like lightning, as he skims through the wallet’s contents.

Student ID, cash, guitar picks, music sheets (?), bus pass.

Sehun looks at the bus pass as he realizes Chanyeol must take the bus home. He takes off for the bus stops. He doesn’t think. It’ll be alright.

He reaches an empty bus stop, panting.

Sehun’s thoughts start spiralling again.

What if Chanyeol had already left, wouldn’t he get into trouble on the bus then, did he have another way home, but he had no money or ID with him, had he even realized his wallet was missing, should Sehun have left the wallet to the school authorities, what if Chanyeol reported it and Sehun got into trouble, but where was-

“The bus already left.”, Sehun is startled by a deep voice.

He looks around to find Park Chanyeol poking his head from behind the bus stop, he seems to have been musing in solidarity in that odd empty spot, his headphones hanging on his neck.

“I-”, Sehun is panting too hard from the strain of running so fast, he inwardly curses himself for all the missed dance practice session courtesy of the boy in front of him. Not like his brain could formulate a concrete sentence to say to Chanyeol anyway, not when his eyes settle on his plush lips on their own accord, not when all the blood in his body rushes to his face because Sehun finally realises, fuck, Park Chanyeol is talking to me. Well, at least he has a pretty valid excuse for being rendered so embarrassingly speechless.

Sehun abruptly pushes his hand into Chanyeol’s space, wallet tightly clutched in his fingers.

Chanyeol is taken aback by the sudden action. He jumps back a little before he realizes Sehun is handing something to him. He promptly reaches out, curiosity taking over the initial shock. His eyes widen when he realizes what he has taken from Sehun’s hands.

So, he had not realized his wallet was missing. Why is he still at the bus stop then, is it whatever had made him cry back at the music room again, is it that boy, Sehun’s brain springs into action.

“Shit, I did not notice I lost it, oh god.”, Chanyeol is looking through his wallet, as if still in awe that it had been missing.

Chanyeol’s long fingers gently grip the soft brown leather, and Sehun’s mind flashes back to slender fingers gripping Chanyeol’s shoulders, the same shirt he dons right now creased under the pressure. Sehun ponders if he is attached, to the object in his hands, to the boy he had in his arms.

Sehun has never held something, or someone, like that, so dearly, so lovingly. Sehun has never been held like that.

Sehun never notices when he loses things, attachment to material objects never crossed his mind. He has seen Jongin cry through 4th period over losing a key charm his sister made him on his birthday. Sehun had not understood. Chanyeol had been crying too, what had he lost, or whom, Sehun had never reflected about his attachment to the few people in his life either, what would it be like, to lose them, he asks himself, as he tries to piece together the mystery behind Park Chanyeol’s tears.

Sehun knows nothing of Chanyeol beyond his name, and the instruments his plays, and that he kisses boys. Chanyeol does not even know Sehun’s name.

Sehun snaps out of his stupor when Chanyeol extends him his hand, now free of the wallet, “Hey dude, thank you so much for my wallet, I don’t even know how I’d have gone home without it, fuck.”, he’s almost rambling, and he seems to realize it too, for he stops with an embarrassed chuckle and says with finality, “I’m Park Chanyeol.”

“Oh Sehun.”, Sehun squeaks back, shaking Chanyeol’s hand lightly.

Chanyeol laughs a little. His eyes are still puffy.

“How can I thank you? Do you like bubble tea?”, Chanyeol is scratching his head, it looks funny, Sehun relaxes a bit and enthusiastically nods his head at the mention of bubble tea.

Chanyeol laughs again, it’s a nice sound, Sehun thinks to himself and blushes at the thought.

Chanyeol pats him on the back as he leads the way. Sehun should contemplate how safe it is to let an unknown guy lead him to an unknown location, but his mind is too busy analyzing the way Chanyeol’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, and tired of weeks of overthinking, Sehun chooses not to think, like he always has.

Sehun soon finds himself sitting in a cozy little bubble tea shop a few minutes from the bus stop, and questions how he had not discovered it yet, in all his bubble tea enthusiast glory.

Chanyeol asks him to order for both of them, he’s fine with whatever, he supplies. There are still shadows across his face.

Sehun orders two Taro Pear bubble teas before they settle down in a corner by the window. A smiling Chanyeol asks him about his choice of menu. Sehun is formulating an answer he can repeat without stammering when Chanyeol’s phone rings.

A jumble of indiscernible emotions flash across his face when he looks down at the phone screen. He picks up with a face half hopeful, half scared. Sehun looks on, confused and curious.

“Baekhyun?”, Chanyeol slowly speaks into the phone, as if the person would slip away into thin air if he lets the syllables out too fast.

It’s that boy. It’s the boy Chanyeol had been kissing, Sehun realizes with a start.

Sehun feels like a voyeur again, listening in to their conversation, as if he had walked in on them making out again.

The barista at the counter calls for them, their order is ready. Sehun conveniently hurries away.

When Sehun comes back with their tea, Chanyeol is still on the phone, a full-blown grin etched across his face. It’s dazzling, takes Sehun a minute to realise he is still talking to the boy named Baekhyun on the other end of the line.

“Your house? Wait, wait, wait, it’ll take me fifteen minutes. I love you.”, he puts down the phone.

So, Chanyeol loved the boy called Baekhyun. Wow. Love. L-O-V-E. Sehun repeats the letters in his head.

Chanyeol is still smiling his dazzling smile, eyes still on his phone. He only registers Sehun’s existence when he puts down the bubble tea in his hands on the table and looks at Chanyeol with expectant eyes. What does he even expect, Sehun scolds himself.

Chanyeol shoots an apologetic smile Sehun’s way, and Sehun knows he will leave, of course he will, Sehun is just a boy who returned his wallet that day, and Baekhyun is the boy Chanyeol loves. A dull throb finds its way into Sehun’s heart, is this how losing people goes about?

But Sehun does not even know Park Chanyeol, and how can he be hurt, not when Chanyeol’s smile bears a striking resemblance to the fucking sun. Sehun cringes at himself.

Chanyeol’s apology falls on deaf ears, Sehun does not want to hear about the Baekhyun guy Chanyeol is in love with. Sehun finally discerns he has a crush. On a boy. And that it has taken him way too long to figure it out.

He decides not to think about it. It’ll pass.

Chanyeol has already left, Sehun sits alone sipping on his beverage, letting the silence eat up his thoughts once more.

\----------------------

The last time Sehun sees Park Chanyeol is at graduation.

It’s spring, and liking boys is just another aspect of Sehun’s being. He does not think much of it. He tries not to think much about Park Chanyeol either. Keyword: _tries._

Sehun sits in the back rows amidst other first years as the graduating seniors walk on stage in groups, arms overflowing with bouquets.

Chanyeol, even taller than what Sehun remembers, walks up on stage, all smiles. Sehun speculates the chances of him remembering Sehun, or at least his name, in some niche of his memory.

A smaller boy latches himself onto Chanyeol’s arm, the bouquets in both their arms almost go crashing down. They both laugh, giddy.

They are holding hands, amidst all the flowers.

They are in love.

A phantom kick launches itself onto Sehun’s shins, and for a moment his knees feel like giving out, although he is sitting.

He decides not to think about it. It’ll pass.

\----------------------

Sehun is twenty-one, tipsy at a gay bar in Itaewon when he sees Park Chanyeol again.

He looks the same as his memories in Sehun's head, and yet more dazzling than ever. Sehun wonders if it’s age, or the pretty lights, or the shots of vodka he’s had.

His heart beats louder than the EDM music on the loud-speakers when Chanyeol’s eyes find his.

Sehun smiles a drunk smile: a memory flickers past between them in the cramped club air smelling of sweaty bodies and expensive perfume and sex and maybe love, as Sehun likes to believe in his best moments.

Chanyeol smiles back, as bright as he remembers, as he makes his way to Sehun.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so, i seriously have no idea what goes on in this fic, teen sehun basically discovers things about himself, and chanyeol is the catalyst. i named it white noise since sehun basically oscillates between not thinking and overthinking in this story, but don't we all?
> 
> ah, i hope people read and enjoy this, and thank you to [smolppstitsucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolppstitsucker) for being the absolute best and giving me motivation and support to actually finish this fic today.


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